


Waiting On The Thunder

by Wizardinpyjamas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, F/M, First Kiss, I think that's the right book, M/M, anyway, but it's based on a chapter in city of ashes, but it's set in the canon world, like kind of a shadowhunters au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 07:24:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20831615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wizardinpyjamas/pseuds/Wizardinpyjamas
Summary: Sam gets kidnapped by a faerie. Dean, Cas, Jack, Jo and Charlie go to rescue him. The faerie Queen has a few tricks up her sleeve.





	Waiting On The Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU where they all live in the bunker together, Jo and Charlie and Bobby are alive and hunting with the boys. Bobby still lives in his home, but it’s close to the bunker, for the purposes of this fic. At the beginning of the fic Dean and Jo are kind of friends with benefits? Idk, but they’re not dating. Don’t look at me like that, I had to do it, and I didn’t want Lisa and Ben involved and call me dumb but I couldnt think of any other love interest for Dean that was also a hunter. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: this has basically been taken directly from City of Ashes by Cassandra Clare in some parts. I wanted to rewrite it to be destiel but I wanted to include the essence of the original story, so yes, there are some lines that are literally exactly the same. Sue me. (please don’t actually sue me I’m poor.)

In the dream Dean was a child again, walking along the bank of a lake. The air was thick with the smell of burgers, and a quiet hush seemed to ripple over the water, its surface alive with sunlight. 

He could see himself as if from a distance, wearing a pair of blue shorts and a coat that was meant for someone years older than him. The hems of the sleeves dragged along the bank, damp sand grating between his toes. There were no clouds and the sky was blue and clear, but he shivered as he walked along the edge of the water toward a figure in the distance. 

As he approached the figure suddenly became clear as if Dean had focused the lens of a camera. It was his mother, kneeling over a portable barbecue, flipping burgers over as they sizzled in the sunlight. She wore the same dress she had worn the day she died, her hair flowing behind her, golden and luscious in the sunlight. 

“Have you come to help me?” his mother said, raising her head. Her hair blew free in the wind, making her look younger than Dean remembered. “There’s so much to do and so little time.”

Dean swallowed against the hard lump in his throat. “Mom—I've missed you, Mom." 

Mary smiled. “I’ve missed you too honey. But I’m not gone, you know. I’ll always be with you.”

Dean shook his head, trying to wake himself. “No,” he cried. “You’re gone, and you’re never coming back,” he told the figure, but Mary was looking out across the lake, her face troubled. The sky had turned an ominous grey, the sun had retreated against heavy, dark clouds that had suddenly appeared. 

“Come here,” said Mary, and when Dean came to her she took his hand. She looked in his eyes, her gaze fixed and fierce. “Whatever you do,” she said, her tone now serious, no longer kind and content, “do not dance. Do you understand. Do not dance.”

Dean shook his head. “What do you mean?” Mary didn’t answer, just looked back towards the lake. He looked after her towards the distant shore where a small ripple was starting to form. It got bigger and bigger until suddenly it had formed into a kind of wave. It lifted out of the previously still lake, a huge shapeless beast pushing the wave towards him. He threw up his hands—

And woke up gasping, his heart slamming painfully against his ribs. Dean was in his bed in the Men of Letters bunker. The old lamp next to his bed was still on from the night previously, but the clock read 13:02. He hadn’t slept that late in a long time. When he sat up he noticed that his hair was slick with sweat. He hadn’t had a dream about his Mom in a long time, and they usually involved fire in some way. Water was new, and Dean didn’t know how to feel. He couldn’t help but feel like the dream was a warning in some way, but he pushed it from his mind. He was late to meet Jo. 

Dean jumped out of bed pulling some pants on over his underwear, throwing a T-shirt on before grabbing whatever plaid shirt was closest. It was a warm day yesterday, so he decided to go without a jacket for a change. As he rushed out of the bunker he noticed that Sam had left him breakfast in the form of a Danish in a paper bag, a note attached: ‘Gone to meet Cas. See you there, sleeping beauty.’ 

Dean shook his head and crumpled the note. He was never going to live this down. He shook the bag from the Danish and shoved it into his mouth, eating it on his way to meet Jo. She’d been on a hunt a few towns away and they had decided to meet up on the way to Bobby’s a few miles outside of town. Dean loved having a case so close to the bunker; it meant that he could sleep in his own bed every night, listen to some classic rock on an old record player he’d found in one of the storage rooms. 

Today they were investigating some weird disappearances. Dean thought it was faeries - those bastards - but Sam disagreed, saying that the signs didn’t match with the lore, but Dean knew better. Those faeries were tricky sons of bitches. 

Jo was supposed to be on the corner of Fleamont Street, next to the bus station, but she wasn’t. He felt a tug of anxiety before he remembered the used record store one street over. Sure enough, when he entered, there was Jo sorting through the cassettes in the new arrivals section.

She wore a pair of denim shorts, cutting off right at the tops of her thighs, a black cami on top. Tied around her waist was a red plaid shirt.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Dean said, flicking one of the arms of the shirt in greeting. Jo grinned when she saw him, shrugging.

“You left it on my floor, it was fair game,” she said simply. “Besides, you’re late.”

“You don’t seem to have minded,” Dean replied. “Find anything good?” Jo smiled, and reached over the basket of cassettes she was looking through, picking up a vinyl record with a dark cover. Dean’s eyes went wide.

“No. Way.” His mouth dropped open. “He’s only one of the best classic rock writers to ever live.” He snatched the album from her and turned it over in his hands. On the front was a bearded man with long hair, staring down at the camera. And there, across the top in a small blue font: ‘Night Moves’. 

“You’re welcome,” said Jo, moving away from the cassettes, patting Dean on the back. 

“You are incredible,” Dean said heading up to the front of the store to buy his record. 

“Well, I don’t like to brag,” Jo said with a smile. 

Dean thanked the cashier profusely and headed outside with his brand new old record swinging in a plastic bag on his wrist. 

“I was worried when I didn’t see you at the bus stop,” he told Jo.

“Shouldn’t have been so late, you lose your watch or something?”

“Slept in,” he said, getting into the Chevy. 

“Woah,” she replied. “Bit late, even for you.” Dean just shrugged in response. “Besides, it’s never the wrong time to look for some good music.”

“You’re my kind of girl, Harvelle,” Dean laughed. “Anyway, it’s fine,” he said, waving a hand at her, “it’s me. I panic way too easily these days. Especially with all these disappearances.”

“You saying I couldn’t handle them?”

“Faeries have gotten the drop on me before,” he pointed out. “You don’t know what they’re capable of.’

“And you’re still so sure that it’s faeries doing this?”

“Not you too.” Dean groaned, shaking his head as they turned onto the road leading up to Bobby’s. It was lined with an assortment of busted up cars, some still in working order, some missing wheels, doors, engines, falling apart into a rusty brown heap.

Getting out of the car Dean saw a figure unfurl itself from where it had been sitting on the stoop. Bobby. He was wearing a large overcoat despite the heat, looking as grouchy and dishevelled as usual. 

“I didn’t know you were bringing her too,” he said as a way of greeting, his eyes flicking uneasily over Jo. 

“Oh, come on, old man,” sad Jo. “What’s the big deal? I know Mom doesn’t like me hunting after that thing with the Hellhounds, but what’s a girl to do?” 

Bobby heaved a theatrical sigh and led the way into his home. “Fine,” he said gruffly. “But if she asks, I protested.”

“Thanks Dad,” she said, standing on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. Bobby rolled his eyes and Dean laughed. Bobby liked to pretend that he was still the same old grouchy, emotionless man, but Dean knew that marrying Ellen had softened him up. 

“I swear this is turning into a madhouse with all you kids here,” Bobby muttered.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. “Who else is here?” Bobby looked as though he was going to reply, but decided against it last minute, and instead pushed open the door to his kitchen come living room as an answer.

They were greeted with a very enthusiastic “Hello, hello!” as a red-headed ball of energy bounded towards them. She was wearing a pair of blue jeans with rips artfully created around the knees, with a bright orange t-shirt that clashed with her hair, on which was a square that looked as though it came from the periodic table with the word ‘Oh!’ inside. The element of surprise. Dean let out a small laugh. 

“Jo!” Charlie squealed as she wrapped her arms around the blonde. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I just got back from Indiana this morning,” Jo said, embracing Charlie with an equal amount of enthusiasm.

“Charlie,” Dean said with a smile, giving her a one armed hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam texted,” she said as though it should have been obvious to Dean. “He said that you think you’re after faerie, and I knew I had to get in on that action.” Dean nodded understandingly, remembering Charlie’s last encounter with a faerie. 

Dean made his way into the living room and was met with another overly eager grin.

“Hey Dean!”

“Jack?” Dean said. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with-.” At that moment a tall figure in a brown trench coat holding a jar full of what looked like peach pits entered the room.  
“Cas,” Dean said, finishing his sentence. “Hey,” he said softly, noticing the small smile that played on the angel’s lips.

“Hello Dean.” 

“We having a party? I’ve never seen this house so crowded,” Jo said, falling onto Bobby’s sofa. 

“Sam texted me,” Cas said, “he told us to meet him here.” 

“Where did you get that?” Bobby said, pushing past the small crowd and towards Cas. “Put that back where you found it.” Cas simply stared at Bobby. “Now.” Cas turned and walked out of the room, his head hanging a little low almost like a puppy that’s been told off. 

“The man is helpful but he keeps trying to put away all my things, cleaning up. I can’t find anything. He’s compulsive,” Bobby tells Dean. 

“Well, Cas does like things neat,” Dean said with a smile, thinking of his monk-like room at the bunker.

“Well I don’t,” said Bobby, watching Jack out the corner of his eye as though the young Nephilim will be the next to start reorganising his home. “Organised chaos, that’s how I live my life.”

“You’re telling me. So where is Sam? He brought us all here.” 

“No idea,” said Bobby. “Hasn’t showed.”

“That’s not sketchy.” 

“I’ll call him,” Jack said, getting out his phone. The group stood in silence for a few minutes, waiting for him to pick up, but they were greeted with the unmistakable sound of his voicemail. Hey. This is Sam. You know what to do. “Uh, hey Sam, it’s Jack. But you know that. Where are you? Call me back. Okay bye.” 

“Alrighty then,” said Charlie. “What now? Any leads?”

“Beyond the fact that I think it’s faeries?” asked Dean. “I got nada.”

“Maybe it’s time for a round table meeting,” Charlie said with a smile. Dean’s heart warmed to her. He could see her now, in her chainmail, pretending to be one of King Arthur’s Knights. 

“I love round tables,” said Jack brightly. “They’re a much better shape than square.” He clicked his fingers and an enormous circular table surrounded by six high-backed wooden chair appeared squeezed into Bobby’s living room. Everyone jumped, and Bobby shouted out in shock as his possessions were pushed up against the walls. 

“What in the hell?” 

“That’s amazing,” Dean said, sliding into a chair. It was surprisingly comfortable. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Nor could I,” said Cas, looking at Jack in confusion. Jack shrugged. 

“How can you create something out of nothing like that?” asked Charlie.

“You can’t,” said Jack. “Everything comes from somewhere. These come from a n antiques store the next town over. And these” —suddenly six cups appeared on the table, four white paper cups steam rising gently from the holes in their plastic lids, two clear cups, filled paper straws sticking out the lids— “come from Full of Beans, that coffee shop near the bunker.”

“That’s stealing,” Cas said, pulling a cup towards him. 

“I put cash in the register,” Jack said.

“Ooh, mochaccino,” Dean heard Charlie say. She took a sip. “With hazelnut? You know me!” She put a hand over her heart in a pretend swoon. Dean took a sip of his own coffee. Black with a hint of cinnamon at the perfect drinking temperature. 

“First order of business would be what?” Jo asked, taking a sip of her iced cappuccino. 

“Figuring out what’s going on would be a start,” said Cas. “Dean, you said you think it’s faeries, yes?” Dean nodded. “So that would be our best place to start.”

“Yeah, ‘cept there’s nothing besides a few disappearances that makes this sound like faeries,” said Bobby.

“And the locals have been no help,” said Jack. Dean’s head snapped up.

“How do you know?” he asked. “You haven’t been here on this case.”

Jack shrugged. “It’s just what Sam said.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Maybe they’re just disappearances. Nothing… supernatural,” Charlie chimed in. 

“But what about the weird runes we’ve been seeing around. They’ve got to be connected.” Dean was getting frustrated. There had been no killings - yet - but something weird was going on for sure. 

“Runes?” Cas asked, leaning forwards on the table. “What runes?”

Dean pulled out his phone and opened his photos app, scrolling back to two days ago to find the pictures he took of the strange markings he’d found near the places the vics were last seen. He passed his phone over to Cas and watched him squint at the screen. One of the runes, the one that showed up most often, looked like a curved X overlapping a V. The other, this one had only showed up a couple of times, looked like a spiral, but with a few lines protruding from the circular drawing, almost like spikes. 

“I’ve seen these before,” Cas said after a moment. “Dean, you’re right, this is definitely faeries, but… not from around here.” 

“What do you mean?” Jo asked. 

“They’re Celtic - these runes - and very old. I… I don’t know why this group of faeries would be here.”

“Maybe they wanted a change of scenery,” Charlie said with a shrug.  
Maybe.” Remind me who has disappeared.”

“Cal Stevens, aged seven,” Dean said, the list of names memorised. “Elijah Baker, aged nine. Jacob Watkins, thirty-five. Those were the first three to go missing, no relation. After that the pattern repeated. Two kids, one adult. All male.” 

“And the runes?” said Cas. “I’m guessing this one—” he held up the phone showing the spiral “—only showed up with the adults?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said. “How’d you guess?” 

“This shows signs of a specific type of faerie. They’re a Welsh lake dwelling faerie. They’re also known as Gwragedd Annwn, the Tylwyth Teg. In English you’d call them Lake Maidens.”

“So let’s gank these bastards,” Dean said, standing up, pushing away from the table. “Where’s the nearest lake?”

“It’s not that easy Dean,” said Cas. “This pattern, this is too ritualistic to be the group of faeries in general. I think we’re dealing with a specific person.” 

“Okay?” Charlie said, joining Dean in a stand, proceeding to knock a stack of books over as her chair pushed backwards. “So let’s go get the dickbag!”

“I think we may be dealing with their Queen.” 

“And what makes you think that?” asked Bobby. 

“The Queen of the Maidens of the Lake, she had a husband and two sons. They were taken from her, slaughtered in front of her when she refused to give up her people, her kingdom. It twisted her soul into something dark, something vicious. But she got them back. She performed a ritual and transferred their souls into different bodies, but it doesn’t last long. Only the strongest bodies can host their souls, and even then, after ten years, they give out.”

“So what?” Dean said. “She performs the ritual every ten years to keep her family together?”

“Exactly.” 

“So their souls are possessing these poor suckers?”

“Not exactly, no. It is legend that their souls consumes the bodies of the hosts, and the host bodies transform back into their original forms. And they don’t remember anything.” 

“But why has she taken so many people?” Jo asked. “There are dozens of people on this list.”

“Like I said, not every body sticks. She’ll keep taking people until her family has been revived in the strongest body possible.” 

“So we need to stop her,” said Jack. “Before anybody else gets taken.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “And we need to make sure she never takes anyone ever again.”

“So where do we start?” Jo asked.

The group stared at one another. Before anyone could think of what to say, a sharp noise cut through the room, making Dean start. 

“It’s Sam,” Dean said, checking his phone. He clicked the answer button. “Sam, what’s up? Where are you, man?” 

“Dean? Dean?!” Sam sounded frantic on the other end of the phone and Dean’s heart race quickened instantly. 

“Sam?” he shouted.

“Dean,” Sam said, his voice sounding relieved. “I need help. I went to-” static “-and then there was this light and-” more static, this time lasting longer.

“Sam? I can’t hear you, man.”

“I know I was an idiot for getting caught Dean, and I don’t have long before she comes back. It’s a good thing she doesn’t seem to understand technology or she would have taken my phone off me when I was jumped.”

“Wait, who’s got you?”

“The Queen, Dean.” Heh, that rhymed. Shut up, Dean, now’s not the time. 

“The Maidens of the Lake,” Dean said automatically. “Hah! I was right! I told you it was faeries!”

“Quit celebrating while I’ve been kidnapped,” Sam said, irritated. “Get your ass down to Lake Miola and help me- shit, she’s coming back. Gotta go-.” And the line cuts. 

“Well, looks like Sammy’s gotten himself in a sticky situation,” Dean told the group as he put his phone back into his pocket.

“You don’t seem too choked up about it,” said Bobby. 

“Ah, he’ll be fine,” Dean said, waving a hand in the air. “Besides, he’s got the most badass hunter as a brother to go rescue him.”

“Ha, you’re funny,” said Jo. “You say that like you’re going alone.”

“I am going alone,” Dean said, his face straight. 

“What, because we don’t care about Sam enough to go rescue him?” asked Jack.

“That’s not it,” said Jo. “It’s that Dean-o here doesn’t think we can look after ourselves. 

“This is different,” Dean contradicted. “This is dangerous.” 

“Our lives are dangerous, asshole,” she replied. “What’s one more hunt?”

“No,” Cas said, stepping away from the table and towards Dean. “Dean is right. The Maidens of the Lake are… they’re a different kind of danger.”

“But—” Jack interjected.

“Faeries,” Cas went on, “are like the offspring of demons and angels combined. A vampire might attack you if you entered its nest, but enter a Seelie Court and a faerie could make you dance until you died with your legs ground down into stumps, trick you into a midnight swim and drag you screaming underwater until your lungs burst, fill your eyes with faerie dust until you gouged them out at the roots—”

“Cas!” Dean snapped, cutting him off. “That’s enough. Shit.” The group stood in silence for a moment, contemplating Castiel’s words. “Look,” said Dean, “what Cas is trying to say is that it’s easy to outsmart a werewolf or a vampire, they’re no smarter than anyone else. But faeries live for hundreds of years and they’re cunning.”

“And, if I remember correctly,” Cas cuts in, “this particular kind of faerie can’t lie, but they love to engage in creative truth-telling. They’ll find out whatever it is you want most in the world and give it to you— with a sting in the tail of the gift that will make you regret you ever wanted it in the first place.” Cas sighed. “They’re not really about helping people. More about harm disguised as help.”

“And what,” asked Charlie, “you don’t think we’re smart enough to know the difference?”

“Charlie, if there’s anyone in the world smarter than you, I’d like to meet ‘em,” Dean said. 

“And I have powers,” Jack piped up. ‘I could be excellent back up.” 

“You’re still learning how to get a handle on your powers,” Cas told Jack. “If anyone should go, it’s me. I’m the most powerful here, the least likely to fall under the faerie Queen’s spell.” 

“There’s no chance I’m going to let you do this,” Dean said, turning to Cas. They share a look, and Dean knows that there’s no talking Cas out of this, and vice versa. Dean sighed. “It’s a stupid idea for all of us to go.”

“Fine,” Bobby said, in mock resignation, speaking up for the first time since Sam called. “I’ll stay.” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Charlie, Jack, Jo,” Dean said, “you’re all staying too.”

“No way!” Charlie shouted. “I want in on some faerie action.”

“It will be very dangerous,” Cas said in a low voice. “It’s understandable if Dean thinks it will be irresponsible for you to go.”

“I am an adult,” Charlie said petulantly. “I make decisions for myself.”

“Me too,” Jo said. 

“And I want to help rescue Sam,” said Jack. “I have ‘the juice’,” he said, using his fingers to make air quotes. Dean rubbed his face. 

“Fine,” he resigned. “I guess we’ll all go.”

“Idjits.” They all looked up to Bobby. “I ain’t going. Try not to get yourself killed or trapped in the Seelie Court. If you die, I’ll have a lot of cleaning up to do.”

**Author's Note:**

> So that's the end of part 1! I was going to wait to upload it because I'm currently coming to the end of my MA, but I thought that posting it might motivate me to actually write the 2nd part so here we are. Hopefully it won't take too long to upload, but stick with me, I promise it's coming!


End file.
